It’s currently 4:30am in the morning as I write this. I am writing it to distract myself from the fact that I cannot get to sleep. When this happens and I can’t get to sleep, I always remember an elderly man I met briefly a few years ago. It all started one weekend when I ended up in Arrowe Park Hospital with an irregular heart-beat. This was discovered when I went to the hospital with a chest infection that just wasn’t clearing up. While I was seeing the doctor, she said that my heart was beating erratically and that I needed to go through to a ward to be put on an ECG. I complained that it was tea-time and that I hadn’t had any grub and asked how long would it take. I was assured it would only take a couple of hours at the most.